


No Darkness Dims the Tide

by Dark_Ruby_Regalia



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Emotional competence is my jam, Eventual Smut, Kissing, M/M, Pirate AU, Scars, They gonna sail straight into each other's heart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-17 18:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14195067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Ruby_Regalia/pseuds/Dark_Ruby_Regalia
Summary: Ignis Scientia and Noctis Caelum are pirates - "friendly" rivals - frequenting the neutral band of water between the lands of Lucis and the Empire of Niflheim. They can't seem to stay out of each other's way.(Hello! Just wanted to leave a note for you all to apologise profusely for the year-long delay between updates, and to let you know I have seven and a half of what looks to be nine chapters of this written now! I'll update over the next couple of weeks while I write the final bit. Thank youso muchto those of you who've stuck by me - your patience and encouragement have made the world of difference ❤)





	1. Swing on over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/gifts).



There was barely a breath in the sail, and barely a light in the sky as the ship crept through the debris field, as silent as a war boat could be in its ever-present atmosphere of sound: creaks and groans from wood under pressure, from limp canvas sagging and flopping against itself, from the occasional set of footsteps to and fro, tending to rope and bearing.

As many as could be spared from the duties on deck were leaning silent over the railing, analysing the burning fragments, the broken timbers, the bodies. A miasma of destruction in an oily meniscus. Something was not at all right about it.

Ahead of them, in silhouette against the flaming hulk of the main wreck, a second vessel was motionless in the water, seeming intact. Making no move, no sound. 

“That’s not spooky at all,” Prompto shivered, trying to dispel his own fears with an acknowledging whisper. “Are they dead? Or worse… Waiting or us...”

“We’ll know soon enough,” Noctis answered. He was at the front, one scuffed leather boot braced against the weather-worn gunwale, listening. Staring intently. Keeping his nerves in check. Something not helped at all by the dull thud of flotsam - bodies and barrels alike -  that hit the prow just below him, though at least it was evidence they were still moving. Creeping towards that dark frigate, its masts and rigging a web in the sky. Hopefully not a portent, Noctis mused.

“That you, Noct?” Came a voice not part of his crew, travelling easy across the littered waters with uncanny clarity. 

“Fuck, it’s Scientia,” Noctis mumbled, mostly to himself, cursing the pirate’s familiar use of his name, before shouting back across the closing distance. “Did you do this?”

The response was delayed and sombre. “No… Perhaps you should swing aboard.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, quickly exasperated. Being told what to do was not his most successful pastime.

As if he’d seen that glower pierce the dark, Ignis - projecting his words through a wide smile - called out  “Don’t worry; I’ll catch you!”

~

Noctis  _ did _ , in fact, swing aboard. A tight grip on a rope and he was airborne, following the low arc of a long swoop, weightless in the air as he let go to land casually on Ignis’ deck as if mid-stride. His hair settled back around his face, framing an expression that betrayed nothing except a challenge in his impossibly blue eyes. Ignis’ crew was visibly impressed by his entrance, giving him a respectable space to plant his feet in, and there he stood - measured up by dozens of eyes at once, and left clear to hold his ground. 

The one eye he needed to catch was there in the thick of the crowd, where the tall, lean figure of Ignis Scientia leaned back into his own bootheels. Everything about him was ajut with an ease bordering haughty: his narrow hips thrust slightly forward; the long line of his jaw held aloft; his neck, thus exposed, taking its sweet time to dip to clavicle, which was in full view between the gape of his collared shirt. His hair was an easy, finger-brushed pomp swept off of his forehead and to the side; his one good eye bright by the light of a fresh-lit lamp. The other eye was hidden behind a plain black patch, which set itself in the midst of a jagged scar that clawed his skin possessively from brow to cheek. It made him all the more mesmerising. 

“You always do make that look so easy,” he said, barely loud enough for the words to travel. A good-natured and honest smile quirked the edge of his lip, but only for a second, before - much louder, and more stern - he turned and started walking, and with a “My quarters,” simultaneously issued a warning to his crew to let him be, and an invitation - of sorts - to Noctis, to follow.

~

Once behind closed doors, he was quick to make use of the time.

“I’d offer a drink, but we won’t have long before someone else happens upon this scene. You saw the bodies?”

“I did.”

“The extent of the destruction?”

“Complete.”

“The cargo?”

“None but provisions for crew. Who were in full Insomnian uniform, with lead-shot skulls, dead before they hit the water.”

This had been a test. Noct knew and resented it; Ignis was left impressed. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement. 

“I don’t know who might’ve done this,” he said matter of fact, the air finally clear between them. 

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“I was nearby. As were you, inexplicably. You surely don’t suspect I’m responsible.”

Noct wanted to say yes just to spite him, but couldn’t. “I’ve seen your trail of destruction; this is nothing like it.”

“Something about it worries me.”

“There must have been a reason.”

“Not all cargo is physical.”

“You think information, maybe?”

“Knowledge is dangerous.”

A sharp rap at the door snapped them both from the moment, and Gladiolus Amicitia - Ignis’ quartermaster - bust through not a moment later.

“Possible ship incoming. A big one. Hard to tell; the fire’s taking all our long-range visibility. I still reckon we book it.”

Noctis was on his feet in an instant and sprinting out the door, Ignis right beside him. Halfway down the deck, a few crewmembers motioned to a dangling rope.

“Shall we share any news?” Ignis asked, as they reached it.

Noctis paused, contemplating. The two were not friendly, by any stretch, yet they were civil out of respect for each other. They were each proven valorous on the seas, and they had an alignment to their  _ modus operandi _ that often bought their paths together - preying on targets whose tyranny spread too far. They were pirates with - if it dare be said - a moral edge. 

“Hammerhead, three nights from now,” Noctis said, taking the rope.

“See you there, Captain Caelum, most feared Pirate on all the seas of Eos.” Ignis gave a shallow but respectful nod.

“Sure thing, Iggy,” Noct said, a grin resplendent on his face as he hoisted himself into the air and swung backwards over the railing, all limber grace, airstepping over dark waters as if he was made to live high above a crowd. He savoured the shock on Captain Scientia’s face one moment longer before disappearing into the receiving arms of his own waiting crew. 

~

They didn’t have to wait three nights to meet again. 

Mid afternoon, two days later, the sun high and the waves lively, Prompto spotted smoke pluming upward from what was unmistakably cannon fire. Noctis, being Noctis, adjusted his bearing straight for it, spinning the well-oiled wheel in his hands to line them up directly.

“Oh of course,” Prompto said, with an unsurprised but nervous laugh, “head straight  _ toward  _ the battle!”

“Prompto, we’re pirates. It’s kind of the entirety of what we do.”

“Wow that’s inarguably true and I don’t really know how to respond.”

“You could excuse yourself to get the cannons ready, if you need a quick exit?”

“Ooh, good idea! Hey, so, Noct, since we’re sailing directly for an in-progress battle, I’d probably better go get the cannons ready!”

“You’re being helpful for a change,” Noctis smiled, eyes never leaving the billow of smoke, as if he aimed to pierce it right through with his bowsprit.

As they arrived though, it was clear the fight was more a light scuffle, and was well and truly won. The  _ Regalia _ \- meaning Ignis Scientia - was a menace in the crystal waters, and had the situation well under control. Noctis passed the wheel to his nearest available crewmember, asking for a leisurely but safe circumnavigation of the scene, then found a position along the side rail - leaning casually against taught rigging - to watch.

Which Ignis noticed immediately. He gave a brief wave over his shoulder before turning attention back to his floundering prey. 

"Would you stop showing off to your  _ boyfriend, _ " Gladio mocked, boring holes into the side of Ignis' head with a sharp stare.

  
"Walk the plank, Gladio," came Ignis’ bland answer, while he signalled for a volley that seconds later tore loose to perfectly impact the ship at broadside just above waterline. Poetry, in other words, if poems were written by splinters in his wake.

Noctis finally took his eyes from Ignis to see what had roused his ire against the smaller ship.  At first glance it was nothing of interest - a modest schooner without adornment - but Noctis was hardly a captain for first glances. He very quickly noticed it a was discreetly armed to the teeth behind hidden panels in the hull, and a few rough gouges on the transom identified it as Imperial - codified information he knew was not at all well known. Noctis - whose occupation and life relied upon secrets hidden in plain sight - had seen these marks repeated enough to know they were more than random. He’d sought the right human source, had  _ insisted  _ on an answer, and was rewarded with the truth of it. What puzzled him now was why one of these covert ships had strayed so far beyond the neutral zone, well into Lucian waters. 

He returned to the helm, pointed out a new course, then took off with the wind and the spray at his heels, alongside a new troubling set of questions. 


	2. Yaw

 

_ The Hammerhead _ was a bar in a neutral settlement on one of the larger islands just outside Lucian waters. It was several layers deep in the township, yet near enough to the sheltered cove to allow her more  _ controversial  _ patrons an easy flee to their ships, should the need arise. Outside it wasn’t much, but nothing ever was in a community built for necessity. And honestly, it wasn’t much on the inside either: simply a collection of wooden stools and tables all painted a welcome glow by the lights hung high on rough nails in the bare joists. Off to one side was the long, tall counter, polished on the top by so many drinks passed across it, and all the hands that bore them. At the end, propped on elbows, deceptively feigning ignorance to the figure approaching, was Noctis, ‘most feared Pirate on all the seas of Eos’, apparently drowning himself with rum.

“Did I keep you waiting, Noct?” Ignis came up close beside him, though there was space for a respectable distance.

Noctis nodded at a half-empty bottle by way of answer. 

“Will you share, or shall I get my own?” 

“Oh he’s had enough,” Prompto said, squeezing between them, pink-cheeked, “but you still better get your own.” He snatched up the bottle and disappeared with it.

“Fight me,” Noctis said, seeming to nobody and everybody at once, but partly to the space Prompto had just occupied, and particularly to Ignis’ antagonistic grin. He leaned back against the bar, a spark in his eye getting ready to fire up the second someone gave him a reason. 

“Are you certain you could hold a sword?” Ignis asked. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Or perhaps I should start the fight without you-” Ignis leaned close to his ear, his voice a sweet syrup- “and you can watch, as it seems you’ve wont to do-”

He was cut short by the cold whisper of a blade beneath his chin. Noctis wore the grin now, his sword solid and unswaying in his hand. For a few seconds the tension was palpable until it was thoroughly undermined by the shout of the barkeep. 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ start this again, Caelum; out with both of you!” Cindy had one hand planted on her hip and the other asserting a non-negotiable order to head for the door. “I love y’all, but you know the rules.”

Noctis, with an apologetic shrug, made straight for that door without a swerve in his step. 

“You’re not even drunk, are you.” Ignis kept up with an easy stride, glancing sideways, always trying to catch a solid read on Noctis’ evasive expressions.

“Maybe my land legs are counteracting my rum legs,” Noctis laughed, instantly disarming. “To my ship this time. I have information to share.”

Ignis followed him there, wondering whether the entire scene had been a ploy to leave together without attracting too much attention.

~

The wind and the weather were picking up, and they hurried along the rough-hewn pier to the  _ Armiger, _ lashed tight at the end of it, rising and falling with the gentle swell that blew in from the entrance to the cove.

Noctis let them into his quarters, rousing a lamp from the splutter of its short wick and taking it to his desk, where he sat. 

“That ship you had the other day - did you know it was Imperial?” Noctis asked.

“I had suspicions that were confirmed by its crew. But how did  _ you  _ know?”

Noctis paused before letting go his hard-won intelligence. “They mark the timbers on the stern.”

“The gouges. I wondered…” Ignis trailed off, placing pieces together in his mind. “They had almost no crew, despite the abundance of weapons. No incriminating charts nor paperwork. The acting captain was hiding among the survivors, trying to slip through with them in the guise of rescue.”

“What gave him away?”

“Everyone side-eyed him. The crew were acting under duress, evidently naive of all plans and were following moment by moment orders in a state of fear. I’m not sure whether they had a mission, and if so, whether it had been fulfilled… Do you know anything?”

“Rumours. I’ve been asking questions. Seems there has been an increase in unknown ship activity here in neutral space, creeping into Lucian waters. No particular pockets of concentration, nor routes, which is telling in itself-”

“They’re hiding their tracks?”

“At a guess.”

“I don’t like guessing, Noct; I like  _ knowing." _

“A hunch may be all we have to go on at this point.”

“Do your  _ feelings  _ tell you anything else?”

“Who fired first yesterday?”

“They did.”

“Unprovoked?”

“... _ Well…" _ Ignis lifted a hand to his face, adjusting his eye-patch, appearing for all the world a little sheepish. “We might’ve gotten a bit  _ close." _

“That was very near the wreck we found the other night. I’m wondering whether it’s related.”

“Two points do not triangulate, Noct.”

Noctis turned to the map on his desk. “No, they don’t…” He scanned a group group of islands oft avoided for their skirt of shallow reefs. Bad waters for deep keels. The wreck had been to the West of them; the fight a small way further round, to the South East. Ignis drew closer, curious now, peering over Noctis’ shoulder at the familiar outlines of coast and cove, and the blue seas he called home stretched between. 

“What are you thinking…?”

“I thought I was having  _ feelings, _ and not thinking much at all.” Noctis had trapped Ignis against an apology, which was delivered in a mumble tied with a beautiful ribbon of reluctance.

“I’m sorry I teased you about your feelings, Noct. Now, please, do go on?” Outside the weather was building up momentum, pressed on the portholes, accentuating Noctis’ theatrical pause for effect.

“I’m thinking that if I were a hostile empire, and I wanted to set up a relay and reconnaissance point close to a neighbouring resource-rich nation surrounded by waters as well-frequented as these are, these islands would be a good place…”

Ignis considered this, fiddling at a chain around his neck with fingers more elegant and delicate than any hard working hands had the right to be. He caught Noctis following his every movement and paused the action, but spoke nothing of it. Instead, a question: “But why in Lucian waters, when the neutral zone is so nearby?”

Noctis blinked, finally looking away from the fingers at Ignis’ neck to the singular point of his gaze. “ _We’re_ in the neutral zone, Ignis, and we’re  _ terrifying." _

“Indeed.”

While they both sifted silently through their own versions of fact and speculation, an unexpected roll bought Ignis crashing crotch-first into Noctis’ upturned face. The limp mound of his cock was unmistakably pressed without ceremony into the hollow of Noct’s eye, disguised not a bit by the fabric of his trousers.

Noct laughed, steadying Ignis with a hand on each hip bone. Amusement lit his face as he looked up between the long, loose strands of his ebony hair. “I appreciate how forward you are, Ignis, but don’t you think we should at least start with a kiss?”

Ignis was mortified. A feeling not assuaged by Noctis’ lingering, wide smile. 

“N—Noct!” Was all he managed to stammer. 

Noctis kept a fierce eye contact, aware that without the crew as witness, all the bluster of Ignis’ domineering was lost now they were alone.

“You’re not at all what your reputation suggests, are you…?”

“What’s my reputation, Iggy?”

“That you’re too soft.”

“Maybe I am,” Noctis said, leaning back in his chair, utterly at ease, “unless the circumstances require…otherwise.” 

Then he  _ winked, _ and Ignis - in a very rare moment - was utterly lost for words.

~

They’d agreed to continue collecting and sharing information, and despite Ignis’ reluctance to give weight to any hunch, frequently saw each other in the waters around the reef and the islands they protected. They kept their distance - knowing each other by their sails and the skull-and-bones they bore - but met every few days to build a big picture together.

This particular morning, Noctis set out at dawn. The sun rose as he sailed a leisurely route past inlets and known points of interest, eventually seeking the now familiar silhouette of island crags at his horizon. But something very large waited for him there. Very large and very angry. A warship bigger than any he’d seen in the area, already firing, though he realised - thankfully - it was not at him.

He adjusted course to remain where he hoped was out of range of the two banks of cannons that disfigured each side of the rotund hull. As he swung further round, the target of its fire came into view: the  _ Regalia, _ characteristically on the scene just before Noctis arrived, but leaving herself uncharacteristically exposed. Then Noctis realised she’d been hit, and was slow in the water, one mast splintered, set to topple imminently. Ignis was steering her away from the fray, hoping that even afflicted she still had enough speed on the galleon to find safety. But the disadvantage was too great, and before she broke free, that cannon-studded wall lumbered around to position, the entire array fired in unison and found their mark. The  _ Regalia’s  _ central mast came crashing down, pulling stays and rigging with it, huge canvas sails floundering dangerous and heavy in the water over one side. The ship was listing for it, exposing the damaged flank that took the brunt of the hit, a grotesque mess of splintered timbers that yawned a dozen jagged small mouths hungry to fill with the weight of the sea.

Noctis repressed an unexpected pang of fear, not for the situation he’d sailed into, but for the possible loss of Ignis Scientia, his rival, the man who mocked him every chance he got, but also made him smile every chance between. Whose expression was always genuine, whose gaze was warm and fond, and whose beauty - so thoroughly captivating even diluted as a memory - was now competing full-force with Noctis’ concentration. 

An unexpected volley flew across the waters in front of him, pulling him back to the moment. The  _ Regalia, _ despite being prone and motionless in the water, had somehow managed to point a round in the right direction, catching the galleon unprepared. So, Ignis was still alive. Let nobody underestimate his clarity under fire, even in circumstances as dire as these.

With a deep breath fortifying his lungs, Noctis assessed the new damage to the galleon. There were broken boards and cannons out of commission on one side; a blind spot, perhaps, if he got his moment lined up right… He set his resolve.

“Sure is a beautiful day,” he purred, sweeping the entire scene with sharp eyes, his hands suddenly a white-knuckle grip at his wheel; his black sails a blight on the clear sky.

“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you,” Prompto said. A statement disguised as a question.

A telling, drawn out “Yeah” was all he received in response. 

“Give me a few minutes,” Prompto asked, taking off at a jog and disappearing below deck. Noctis kept his eyes on the galleon, circling wide. Getting a feel for it. The wind, the swell. The manoeuvres of the offense, the chinks in the hull. He passed the  _ Regalia _ on the outside, broadside to broadside, safely clear of fallen stays, but close enough to see Ignis for himself. They exchanged a sombre nod. 

Prompto appeared for a mere moment to confirm his readiness, and Noctis immediately shifted gear. A tight grip on the handles, predatory eyes finding their prey, missing nothing. He turned towards the Imperial ship.

Across the waters, Ignis heard him bark a single word to his crew: “YAW.” A frantic bell sounded, setting everyone to scramble with hell-bent purpose. 

“No,” Ignis breathed with wondrous disbelief, distracted from his own predicament, eyes glued to the dark hull and the darker hair at its helm. “Fuck, he’s going to do it.” He was muttering. “Gladio… GLADIO… I’ve heard about him doing this. You have to watch...”

On Noctis’ deck, the bell stopped and the fervour came to an impossible halt as the ship set itself to head straight for the galleon, dangerously picking up speed. And then, all of a sudden, without warning, Noctis spun the wheel hard. The sails were flung wide on one side and the  _ Armiger  _ moaned in protest as it twisted violently on the spot, disobeying momentum. Its first bank of broadside cannons ripped loose, smacking home high on the hull of the Imperial ship. But the frigate kept spinning, bucking on its own swell, the crew dropping and hoisting sails in some carefully orchestrated sequence, Noctis fighting bodily for control as the rudder tried to wrest him from the wheel. Mere seconds after that first retort, the aft cannons blast a few well-placed shots to the steering wheel high on the deck, clipping it, rendering it useless. But the ship was still heaving around, digging deep into the cacophonous spray, and soon enough her second set of broadsides flew free. Noctis was already hauling in the opposite direction to straighten out, sails dropping all together now and pulled tight to the wind, the  _ Armiger _ leaping out of its spin to sprint away. The whole incident was over frighteningly fast, and the Imperial ship was dead in the water, careening to one side, no longer a threat. 

Ignis and Gladio were dumbfounded. 

“I have no fucking idea how he does that,” Ignis said, dripping with awe. “It’s unnatural.” 

“And his gunner is unbelievable,” Gladiolus added. 

The  _ Regalia, _ with Ignis at the helm, was not merely good. It was  _ great. _ Proven time and time again. But Noctis, in the  _ Armiger, _ was  _ magnificent. _

Noctis rounded carefully on the  _ Regalia  _ again, coming up against the clear side this time, to collect Ignis and Gladiolus so they could board the stricken galleon and hopefully uncover some answers.


	3. Between ocean and shore

 

The galleon’s surviving crew had relinquished little. They found the captain dead - a victim of Prompto’s uncanny aim - the next in command easy to handle, and the rest all too eager to surrender to them afterwards. One thing was confirmed: they were an Imperial ship in Lucian waters where they definitely should not have been.

They had also found an overlarge diving bell settled in the hold, and with it, some stability to their suspicions. 

“We’ll have to come back,” Noctis said, caught in a tangle of thoughts that somehow connected the broken deck beneath his feet with the island looming nearby. Ignis was slipping into a sad silence, his focus frequently stolen by the husk of the  _ Regalia  _ drifting wounded and low in the waters. At least still afloat, for now.

“Do we  _ have  _ to scuttle it?” Gladiolus was lamenting, meaning the galleon, aware it could easily be a statement about the  _ Regalia  _ herself. “She’s so powerful.”

“You’re too easily impressed by big things, Gladio,” Ignis said, the timbre of his voice tuneless and morose. He’d stopped trying to hide the object of his attention, and had moved to the side-rail, clutching at the mainmast shroud, leaning his full weight into it. 

“We don’t have to scuttle, if you’re willing to stay with her,” Noctis said, passing Gladiolus to stand by Ignis’ side. “Beach her nearby. Drape her in the  _ Regalia’s  _ downed sails. Nobody will touch her then, until we make a decision. The diving bell alone may be worth that effort.”

He put a hand on Ignis’ shoulder, curling his fingers gently into it for reassurance, and kept contact. Ignis was taken aback by the gesture, turning his head sharp to look at Noctis. To  _ really look, _ as if seeing something new. He didn’t move away.

Noctis shrugged, unapologetic, unashamed. “‘Too soft on deck’. Reputation confirmed, I guess?”

Ignis’ voice was a strained whisper. “Will you help me save her? Please…”

Noctis laughed, but his mirth was burdened by sincerity, eyes damp and sympathetic. “Of course. You did steal her from my dad, after all.”

~

As the sails filled, the thick rope trailing over the  _ Armiger’s _ transom began lifting from the water, dripping as it rose to pull taught against the bow of the  _ Regalia.  _ They’d transferred as much as they could from her to lighten the load, and she sat well above her usual waterline, though at a sickening angle. A few brave crew stayed aboard to monitor, while Ignis stood beside Noctis at the  _ Armiger’s _ helm, his grief better hidden behind the bluster of action.

“You seem to know your bearing. Care to share, Noct?”

“You need a dry dock; I need a harbour.” 

“Not many places with both around here. Not close enough to tow to, and certainly not tolerant of...us.”

“Nope.”

“Are you being purposefully obtuse?”

“Nope.”

“Noct, please.”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

“...O gods, you’re taking me to your father’s.”

Noct just smiled.

“He’s going to kill me.”

“Relax. He let you take her.”

“He  _ what?” _

“It was the night of his retirement party. Everyone was drunk. He saw you sail her out of the cove, and figured she was much too good a ship to flounder in disuse.”

“He must think me such a fool.”

“He also figured you were much too good a captain to sail anything less.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ask him yourself.”

“The Pirate King  _ gave me his ship!?” _

“Well, he let you take it. You think you’d have gotten away with it otherwise?”

Ignis didn’t know whether to be offended or proud. He turned to look over his shoulder at the ship in question just in time to see a piece of her break loose, lost forever to the waters with a splash and a gulp, no lingering trace. She would be swallowed whole in short time. Noctis saw his jaw fall in a bereft sigh, followed by a quick hand to the lower edge of his eyepatch to brush away an errant tear. So, his hidden eye could still cry, Noctis mused; a secret so personal he felt a blush touch his cheeks, and a yearning to learn more fill his chest. He ordered the rest of the sails dropped, felt the Armiger take up the strain of fresh speed, and heard the waters make way for her in cascades of scattered spray. He would save Ignis’ ship somehow.

~

Ignis was silent the rest of the trip. After a few impossibly long hours, the  _ Regalia  _ giving herself by increments to the steady suck of depth below, Noctis finally had them circling through a spiral of small islets, slowing to a crawl to guide them through the narrow channel between. It was a feat Ignis had only performed once - in the opposite direction - when he’d sailed the  _ Regalia  _ free under cover of darkness, an entire party of pirates distracted behind him, unaware. Or so he’d thought at the time. He’d made it out by memory - carefully mapping the route in advance, as was his way. Ever with a strategy. To watch Noctis do it now - with his waterlogged hulk of a dying ship in tow, no less - made him realise Noctis did  _ everything  _ by feel. By intuition. He somehow knew how to work with what was already playing out, intrinsically aware of the totality: the fickle winds, the roiling currents, the headstrong momentum of two ships acting independently, connected only by a filament. Through that, Noctis was coaxing and encouraging the wreck to follow, the unrecognisable flank of mangled timbers glistening with spray, rolled upward to the fair weather whose sunshine seemed an insult to the great tug on Ignis’ heart. The insignificance of his suffering in the greater context was all too clear and acutely felt. He was alone on the deck of someone else’s ship, watching his own sink his will away.

An “Ignis, I need you,” revived him. Noct was looking over his shoulder at him, both hands still on his wheel, his expression serious yet reassuring. 

“You need me?” Ignis parroted, noting they’d arrived at the centre of the spiral and the quiet cove it sheltered. “What can I do?”

“I’ve never had to bring two ships to shore before. You’re good at planning fancy stuff.”

“I saw your  _ yaw _ , Noct.”

“That’s not the same.”

“It’s a damn sight more complex than anything I’ve ever witnessed.” Ignis couldn’t hide his awe.

“It’s just taking advantage when the variables line up right. This? We’re going to have to drop an anchor to haul against and throw ropes out and get someone onto the pier and I don’t know, it’s all…” and he finished his sentence with an exaggerated shrug, dislodging responsibility from his own shoulders straight onto Ignis’. 

Ignis was thankful for the focus. “Will your crew listen to me?”

“You’re Ignis-fucking-Scientia. Of course they’ll listen.”

Ignis couldn’t help but smile, slight at first, but soon lighting his face in its customary smirk. A swell of his usual confidence returned with Noctis’ expression of faith, straightening his spine, sharpening his mind. He felt almost himself. 

Noctis watched him stride away, commanding attention by posture and attitude alone. Only a few faces turned to Noctis for reassurance, and a small flick of his head directed them all back to Ignis, who began issuing commands decisively. Ropes were thrown and the last sails furled, and by gentle tugs and nudges they bought the  _ Regalia  _ alongside them. In the stillness of these waters they could use the  _ Armiger  _ as a crutch, and by careful increments - dropping and hauling against their own anchor - they warped the two ships slowly to dock. 

Waiting for them there, lined up on the pier, was a small entourage of well-weathered men. In the centre - resplendent even in the basic comfort of linen - stood Regis Caelum, once known as the Pirate King, eyes twinkling with what may be amusement or nostalgia or perhaps a murderous rage. One hand rest easy against the hilt of his sword; the other, on his hip, was hidden beneath a cape draped lopsided around his neck, accentuating the proud contrapposto tilt of his shoulders. His good leg was planted firmly, taking his weight off the other, which was a wooden peg from the knee down. Nobody dared take him less seriously for it.

“Get ready to catch some ropes, lads,” he said. “Looks like the  _ Regalia  _ has returned... Mostly.”

Ignis was, understandably, afraid to disembark. Knowing this would be the case, Regis made sure to meet him at the bottom of the gangplank.

“So, here you are, limping back into my cove.” 

Ignis knew better than to point out the irony of such a descriptor. 

“Would it help if I insisted I’d only intended to borrow her?”

“Don’t insult me by returning a gift, boy.”

“Sorry, your ah… Your Majesty.”

Regis chuckled. He was handsome and well spoken with an easy charm, to which not even Ignis’ discomfort rendered him immune. 

“Cid’ll fix her, but it’ll take some time.”

Ignis mustered a nod through his humility, hoping it conveyed as much gratitude as he felt.

~

Noctis was fast asleep in his cabin when a tentative knock had him flying bodily to the door before his mind could catch up, driven on muscle impulse and an inbuilt wariness that came lashed tight to the skull on his flag. He found Ignis there, the moon seeking to highlight his cheekbones between tendrils of passing cloud. Succeeding, to breathtaking effect. 

“Iggy!” he breathed, adjusting the hammer of his heart from the adrenaline of danger to an exhilarated flutter of welcome surprise.

“Noct,” Ignis answered, dragging the single syllable out far longer than should be possible. He was uncertain about something, unsure how to address it. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. I’m… I just… It’s…”

A chill breeze ruffled them both, and Noctis gave a shiver. He was reminded, in this moment, of his shirtlessness; wondering whether he ought to feel bashful about it. Deciding he didn’t. Not when Ignis looked at him like this. 

“I was-” and Ignis paused to take a breath- “hoping you had a spare bunk.”

“Can’t sleep on solid ground either, huh?”

Ignis wasn’t used to being known so instantly. “No, I suppose not.”

“Come in, Iggy.”

“...In?”

“All my beds are filled with your crew; you’ll have to sleep here. With me.”

Ignis blinked singularly several times, though he said not a word. Simply followed Noctis through the door, and gently latched it behind himself.

~

Noctis fumbled through the room for a lamp. He set it down beside the bed as it spread its glow, his back turned but for a moment. The creep of golden light that framed him wrapped across his pale skin; slipped around his sides. Its ambient embrace would have been complete, if not thwarted by a jagged scar that sliced diagonal from shoulder-blade to hip, defiantly remaining dark. It wasn’t an angry mark; wasn’t new. But it was unexpected. Ignis instantly filled with realisation that this was a glimpse at a past horror, somehow survived. He hovered in the shadows, a hand half raised to his patch, understanding. 

Noctis had flumped back onto the bed, busy untangling the twist of flung covers, before he realised Ignis was still lost to the room. 

“Ignis?” he called, and Ignis stepped forward at least. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask. You’re not comfortable here.” He made to get up again, to find another solution, but Ignis closed the distance to reassure him.

“No, it’s fine. I’m grateful. Thank you, Noct.” And he hesitated before pulling his own trappings off, buckles at his waist and buttons down his chest, self-conscious under the attention of the curious eyes that roamed the planes of his body, just shy of impolite. Noctis, it seems, truly  _ did _ like to watch...

He was pinned by those eyes to every portion of space he occupied, clear down to the mattress he finally lay himself upon, careful to take up his half of it but no more. Noctis was propped on elbows beside him, shoving the blanket generously over, wriggling until they were both settled. 

“I’m sorry about your ship, Iggy. I know her wounds are your own.” 

“I feel more adrift on land without her than I ever did on the water.” He brushed at his eyepatch again, avoiding eye contact. Then, he slid it off, dropped it into his pile of shed garments and gear, and buried that secret side of his face into the pillow. He had both eyes firmly closed, though only the one was visible. Those lashes, Noctis realised, that had become  _ familiar _ , that were smoothed against cheek, beneath fine brow. He let long seconds pass unacknowledged.

“Was this all a ruse, Noct, or are we actually going to sleep?” Ignis smiled into the bedding, teeth a sly glint between his lips. 

Noctis was conspicuously silent, barely breathing. Not ready to snuff the lamp just yet. 

“You want to see it, don’t you.”

Noctis eventually managed a whisper. “I do.”

So Ignis leaned back, leaving the security of the pillow behind. He opened both eyes, meeting Noctis’, and braced for a reaction he didn’t want to witness, but was resigned to endure. A reaction that never came. Instead, Noctis shuffled closer, looking down at him as he lay there, taking in everything - every detail - as if, without the patch, each feature had shifted and needed re-mapping, now that Ignis appeared to him whole. Finally, his roving attention came to rest on the scar that raked unknown freckles away, the eyelid sensitive with thin, tortured skin, framing the glassy iris that trapped all the cirrus within. Like every cool, misty morning Noctis had been comfortably lost in; every wave and its tumult of spray that christened his bow anew; each  thunder-laden storm he couldn’t outrun, that swallowed him merciless, heavy and gray. He was unafraid. 

“Are you horrified?” Ignis asked, bare to his core. 

“No,” was the reply that reached for him. “The opposite couldn’t be more true.”

Noctis dipped down, his warm breath meeting Ignis’ cheek before his lips did, and he pressed a kiss against the tideline between ocean and shore; between unharmed and healed. 


	4. Going down

Morning was announced with a rap at the door, closely followed by an opening latch and the groan of hinges as Prompto let himself in. It was the usual habit - Noct’s extra nudge into the day - but this morning Prompto stopped mid-greeting, mouth ajar, when the face that rose from the blankets was not Noctis’. 

“Nope, I am not here for this,” he said, turning on his heel and walking out, muttering loudly to himself as he went. “Wow, good morning Prompto here’s your eyefull for the day, definitely not awkward at all...” Even after the door was closed again he could still be heard muttering, nervously letting crewmembers know it was going to be a late start. 

Noctis’ laugh was muffled by sheets and pillows. He followed it with a groan.

“He’s right, we better get started.” Ignis sounded like he’d been awake a while already.

“What time _is_ it?” Noctis asked, finally sitting up, rubbing his face. Scratching through his scruffy, wan beard as if it could ever be smoothed into place.

“Maybe seven, at a guess.” 

“Prompto let me sleep in.”

“What time are you usually up?”

Noctis grimaced. “Dawn. Prompto’s normally very consistent.” He grinned. “My very own clockwork blonde!”

“Eager for your dazzling wit, I assume.” Ignis slipped out of bed and began pulling clothes on. Noctis reluctantly did the same. Any lingering thought to his chase kiss on the cheek through the night was pushed aside by the rush of the day, the pending list of problems to solve and the clarity of a brisk breeze on his face when he left the cabin. There was no time to dwell on how much of that spontaneous moment he’d _meant_ , between the last trace of rum, the bone-deep lure of a sleep he’d been woken from, and Ignis’ indifference to the intimacy in such contact. He’d closed his eyes and rolled over and whether he slept or not, Noctis didn’t know, but he was unmoving from that point on.

~

Out on deck there was an aimless mill of mixed crew. Noctis had stumbled out of the cabin first, mid-stretch and yawn. He hadn’t tucked his shirt in; hadn’t buckled his sword belt on. His tasseled sash was draped over his shoulder. Still, from the safe shadow of the cabin doorway, Ignis watched every back on the deck straighten up in deference; saw them nod in greeting, step away from where they were perched or leaning, and follow Noctis across the deck. This was the first time he noticed the slight catch in Noctis’ step - an asymmetrical jink in his hips - and he wondered whether it was anything to do with the scar that was now hidden beneath the wind-swept billow of his black shirt. Regardless of scars, regardless of sleepiness, Noctis somehow still made every movement look fluid and easy. Effortless to the point of lazy. As if to emphasise the sentiment, he yawned again, then - whilst dipping a hand down his pants to tuck his shirt tails in - Ignis overheard him asking about breakfast. _Maybe this is why they love him_ , Ignis thought. Noctis was, in so many ways, another number in the crowd. No separation between himself and his crew. But that’s not why anyone would respect him as they did. Then he overheard the conversation move from food to updates from sentries, whether anything had been seen on the seas through the night. Nocis now had his weapons buckled on and his sash tied around his waist, flicking its tassels with each move he made. He’d pushed hair behind his ears and his eyes had found a focus Ignis could see in blue flashes as Noctis listened and nodded and furrowed his brow in thought. And _this,_ he realised, is how he earns his respect. From distant decks they’d grown up on the same waters together, used to seeing each other’s faces in passing as they each stood beside a captain they’d eventually replace. Looking at him now, Ignis was acutely aware of how little Noctis resembled the smooth, impish face of his youth, and how far from the looming shadow of the King he’d stepped. He cast a shadow all his own, and it trailed him like a cape fixed to the shoulders of the rightfully ascended. 

Ignis left the security of the doorway to join the group, instantly picked up by Noctis’ attention. The were soon side by side by some natural force of the parting crowd. 

“Nothing new through the night,” Noctis said. “Though there’s a lot to miss in the dark.”

“The galleon would be no small loss,” Ignis added. “But maybe word hasn’t spread too far yet.”

“Think they know it’s… _us_?” Noctis asked, and everyone had felt his pause. The crew regarded each other - half each from two ships - while the implication of that _us_ took hold. 

“I hope they do,” Ignis said, after some very deliberate coming-to-terms of his own. “Though I never thought I’d find myself saying so.” A familiar smirk exposed his teeth. His half of the crew smiled with him. “There might be some advantage to making a move while we’re on the front foot here.”

“I guess it’s a question of _what_ move.”

“I’ve been thinking about the diving bell,” Ignis said. “They’ve done something underwater. We need to figure out what, and where.”

“You know about my _feelings_ on where, Iggy.” 

“And I think you’re right.”

Noctis lit up with surprise. “You do?”

“The galleon is our third point, Noctis.”

“A triangulation.” Noctis understood instantly. He was also aware Ignis had just called him by his full name; a small show of respect. 

“Of sorts. It correlates your hunch at least. Perhaps today we check the reef?” 

Prompto arrived with two bowls of something hot and savoury. Potato, mostly; fried for a while with an egg scrambled in at the end. Simple but good. Noctis was chewing his first mouthful when shouts from shore drew their attention, and everyone turned to look. It was Cid, giving orders, where the _Regalia_ \- still miraculously afloat - had been lined up with the slipway, chained by the prow to a large winch. On command, the winch was turned by muscle against the friction in its grease, and by increments the hulk left the water onto rollers that eased its path onto land. Ignis hung his head, quietly handing his bowl back to Prompto, untouched. 

“Let’s go,” Noctis said. He didn’t speak loudly, but his crew carried the command through its number like a ripple. “Ignis-” he returned the full name “-you’re at the helm.”

Ignis, recognising all the mercy in this offer - the distraction, the split of power, the good faith - lifted his chin again. He climbed the stairs to the wheel, watched his crew members find their place on deck or disappear below, then called a few commands to get them underway.

~

They dropped anchor to pick up Gladiolus at the stranded galleon. It was squanched into the sand, open to the weather, the great bulk of its belly bulging out of the water, left there by high tide. Two giant anchors were mired in the sand to prevent her escape once the tide returned. The familiar sails stripped from the _Regalia_ flapped lazily against the hull, marking it a conquest and a warning in one.

“Uncovered anything new?” Ignis asked, stepping carefully through debris across the slope of the hold to circle the diving bell. 

“Nah. Just way more teeth than I thought one ship could have. Very spacious too! Not luxurious though. Lots of buckets.” 

“Dredging, if we’re right about the reef.” Ignis looked up to the giant hatch above their heads. “We need that open. The diving bell comes with us.”

“You kidding me?”

Ignis was not kidding. He pointed out hooks and pulleys, called in extra crew, explained and instructed and had everyone scurrying to keep up. They had the hatch open in short time; had located a boom-arm and splinted its fracture; re-strung the pulley system to hoist the bell upward and swing it sideways. Then they trailed a rope from the bell to the _Armiger_ and pulled it through the water until it was dangling right below. They could see it down there, an indistinct blur of dull metal in the shadow of the hull. There was an eerie hush while captains and crew alike peered down at it, an unspoken fear of the unknown shared in the silence. None of them had been in a diving bell before. Soon that would have to change. They brought the boom-arm from the galleon, lashed it to a mast and hoisted the bell onto deck. 

~

The reef was visible above surface as a dark gnash of sharp rocks chewing waves into a jagged froth of spray. These were the safe bits though - the visible bits, easy to avoid. The danger was in what was below, the rocks that lay in wait, hidden by a turbulent morass of sand and foam. The _Armiger_ crept up slowly, as near as it dared, before stopping to take note.

Noctis was scanning the shore of the island the reef protected. “If they did this - dredged a channel through the reef - they were taking one heck of a chance.”

“No wonder the galleon was a fortress. A well-defended risk.” Ignis was doing the same, searching for anything anomalous; finding nothing. He took out his spyglass and held it to his eye.

“Imagine going down there,” Prompto said. His voice carried a tremor of imagined dread. He shuddered. “So much water above you. Not knowing what was happening on the surface. Just you in a little pocket of air trapped under a metal dome.”

“It doesn’t seem likely they could’ve busted up rock and moved it around like that.” Gladiolus’ skepticism wasn’t unfounded.

“Desperation and tyranny can achieve great feats,” Ignis said. “That crew we spoke to was under duress. I think they were being forced.” He passed the eyeglass to Noctis and pointed further around the island to where the shoreline tucked in on itself. The extent of the inlet was unknown, hidden behind layers of trees.

“That is only one place on the island that could be anything,” Noctis said. “Let’s start there.”

“Then we need to figure out who’s going down.” 

Everybody exchanged sideways glances. The crew was unanimously silent. 

“I’ll go,” Noctis said. He shrugged. “Breathing air is breathing air, right?”

~

Noctis stripped down to his shirt and trousers, handing everthing else to Prompto, who scampered into the captain’s cabin to set it all down. Meanwhile, Ignis was ordering the drop of the bell. A much simpler operation now that there was rigging in place. The boom-arm swung sideways over the edge of the boat, the bell hanging heavy on its rope from the end of it. Then they lowered it down until it was just below the surface, and paused.

Noctis stood on the very edge of the deck. “Time to hop in I guess!” He couldn’t figure out whether he was more nervous or excited, though was definitely a mix of the two. He was comfortable enough in and under water, and curious enough to overcome any fear in favour of having the experience. 

“Signal us when you’re in. We’ll lower you down. Signal again when you’re touching down.” Ignis studied him for any sign of distress, but saw none. Noctis simply nodded in understanding, then stepped off the side. 

He let his momentum drag him downward, feet first, until he felt the air in his lungs pull at him to rise again. He opened his eyes, accustomed to the sting of salt, and sought the bell. He wasn’t far from it, and was positioned below its lip. All he had to do was give a kick and he rose right up into its chamber. He took a breath of air. Every small sound was made sharp by the small space: water dripping off his hair, the sound of his breathing. The lap of water against the inside edge of the air pocket. All of it served to make the space feel smaller, tighter, even less natural. It was a misalignment all in the mind though, and Noctis urged himself to breathe normally. He studied the inside of the bell by the light that filtered through the portholes, making sure there was no water leaking around the thick glass nor around the seams that connected air tubes to the top of the dome. Each had a valve that made sure only fresh air entered and stale air left. Everything seemed to be working. The only thing to test now was the signal.

Noctis leaned toward a funnel in the side of the bell. He unscrewed its covering cap, then spoke into the end of it. “Can you hear me?”

He held his breath again while he waited long seconds in hope of a reply. He expected Prompto. Instead, he got Ignis. “I can hear you, Noct.” Even warped by having travelled through coils of piping, hearing the particular way Ignis said his name uncoiled a warm spot in Noctis’ chest. He smiled to himself, and was thankful to be all alone down here to better hide a small blush. 

“I’m ready,” was all he could think to say. “Drop the bell.”

“Lowering now.” 

There was a general whoosh of indistinct noise from the funnel; wind and indecipherable voices and interference from the tubing slipping over the side. The bell lurched a bit as the rope was released on deck, then slowly dropped downward, pulled by the weight of its own ballast against the upward tug of the trapped air. It was all in good balance - Ignis had done some calculations - and Noctis mused his grasp of so many things whilst watching through the porthole, the reef appearing before long, tendrils of weed and debris floating past the glass. It was much deeper here than he’d have guessed, which he spoke out loud for Ignis’ benefit. _A surprise, but not entirely unexpected,_  Ignis had said in return. Noctis looked down past his feet to where he could see the sand rising to meet his toes. 

“Almost there. Stop the bell.” A few seconds later the bell juddered at the end of its rope, and Noctis’ feet touched ground. It was a deeply strange experience for his psyche - knowing he was standing on the bottom of the seas he thought he knew so well. He kept himself from dwelling by focusing on the swirl of waters out one porthole, then the next, as he searched for any evidence things had been disturbed. 

He could see dark rocks jutting dangerously from the pale seabed, and beyond could see the seabed rise steep to meet the shores of the island. Right here though, the waters were deep - very unusual this close to shore. Cutting through the reef still seemed so unlikely - far too fantastic an undertaking - and his first glance seemed to reinforce that. But he looked over the visible rocks again, moving back and forth from window to window to compare what was natural reef to… what seemed _different_  to the rest. But it was still so hard to tell. He furrowed his brow.

He leaned toward the funnel again. “Iggy?”

“Yes, Noct?”

“I’m leaving the bell for a minute.”

Ignis’ response was delayed by his shock. “Don’t you dare.”

“I’ll be fine!” Noctis said brightly, and before Ignis could argue, he closed the funnel.

On the surface, the speaker-tube went silent. Ignis knew right away he’d been cut off, and pressed his lips together to mask his concern behind frustration. He took a few steps to the side of the ship and sought the bell by sight. The surface was too agitated and reflective to let his vision pass through; for a second he thought he’d made out the dark form through the chop, but just as quickly he lost it. He returned to the funnel to wait. And, he realised, to _hope._ He cared for all of his crew, but Noctis was beginning to feel different to him. Of more consequence. Or, if he was being truly honest with himself, of more _personal_ consequence. He traced the edge of his scar, seeking the same pressure from his fingertips he’d felt from Noctis’ lips the night previously. He hadn’t known how to respond, so he _hadn’t_ , but he had realised it wasn’t the contact he was uncomfortable with; it was fear of losing more of himself. The _Regalia_ had been more than he thought he could bear… 

And yet Noctis, somehow, was part of why he _could_ bear it.

He’d been counting the seconds in his mind. He was up to forty.

~

Noctis took a deep breath in and sunk down into the water that lapped about his waist, dipping under the lip of the bell into the expanse of water beyond. He took a second to orientate himself, his eyes following the rope upward from the bell - and the tubes that fed him air and took his voice to Ignis’ ear - to the great, black blot of the _Armiger_ on the surface. Sunlight filtered in all around it, scattered by the movement of water, reminding him all the more that he had one lung-full of air, and that if he didn’t make it back to the bell in time, he’d be quite a bit screwed. He turned his back on the bell and swam alongside the reef, following it along to where he thought he’d seen something… And on getting there, he was... _right._ The rocks beside him suddenly _stopped,_ and he looked up a channel clear toward the inlet of the island. Rocks had very obviously been shattered and shifted to the edges on both sides, leaving a space between them just wide enough to sneak a ship through. Noctis let out an exclamation that left his mouth in bubbles. They rose past his eyes in small, silvery domes. He felt his lungs start to rebel. 

The bell seemed further away than it should have. He’d swum further than he’d thought. But he wasn’t worried. He struck out toward it, pulling himself through the water in great sweeping strokes. There was part of this he was enjoying - the alone-ness an unexpected aspect of it - and he wished he had longer just to _be_ down here. But he was fighting his body for its need to breathe now, rationalising his way past the biological imperative to inhale, reaching with each stroke toward the upturned metal dome that held within it his personal pocket of air. He dove underneath the lip and curled his body into it, breaking out of the water with a gasp. He followed it up with a laugh. Yeah maybe it was a bit dangerous, but he’d made it.

~

Ignis was up to seventy-three seconds when he heard the speaker tube clang. “Iggy?” 

He let out a sigh of relief. “You’re alright,” he said, trying to keep the worry from his voice. He failed.

“Did you miss me?” Noctis’ chuckle burbled through the tubing.

Ignis ignored the question. “I’m bringing you up.”


End file.
